


Clarity

by maebyrutherford (maeberutherford)



Series: The Right Hand [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Break Up, F/M, Heartbreak, Past Infidelity, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4477484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeberutherford/pseuds/maebyrutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen's new life as the Right Hand of the Divine is interrupted when he receives a letter from his ex, The Inquisitor that broke his heart.</p><p>Inspired by a "I don't think half truths count as lies," prompt on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity

“Another, sir?” the server asked, nodding toward the empty mug that had been full of ale just moments ago.  
  
“Bring me a bottle of your vintage, please, two glasses,” Cullen replied. It wasn’t like him to drink at all, let alone down one in seconds, but his nerves had gotten the best of him. If he recalled correctly, it was her drink of choice when she was in Val Royeaux.  
  
He sipped the wine more slowly, trying to ignore the wild fluttering of his heart. Over the past few years he’d often thought about what it would be like to see her again, whenever he heard talk of the Inquisition or sometimes alone in the dark, but he never actually believed it would happen, not until he received her letter. Just opening it brought back a rush of feelings he had thought long dormant (they would likely never leave him completely, and he had made peace with this). The parchment had actually smelled of her, a phenomenon he always thought was just a silly embellishment in Varric’s romances.  
  
He didn’t want to agree to the meeting, once he moved past the initial rush of memories of happier times and remembered the pain of how it all ended, and how long it took him to get over her. What more was there to say to each other after everything that had happened? He finally felt like he was in a good place, free of lyrium and romantically untangled, devoting himself fully to his job and to his closest friend.  
  
He confessed this to Cassandra who, being the Divine, had already received a letter of her own.  
  
“See her, Cullen,” Cassandra had said, “She has avoided visiting until now because of the way things ended between the two of you. It isn’t practical, she is the Inquisitor and we must be able to conduct business, even though I may despise the way she treated you.”  
  
She had risen from her throne and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I am sure she wants to apologize. You need this, it will help you heal. I know you have moved on, but I know you have not forgiven her.”  
  
What could he say? He had to obey the orders of his Divine. Besides, maybe Cassandra was right. He knew better than most that it wasn’t wise to let poisonous feelings fester for too long, no matter how much they were repressed. Perhaps finally hearing the apology he never received, not even when he was in tears begging for her to tell him why, would help to repair his scarred soul. He liked to tell himself that he was just devoted to his work, that he had not time for love, but in truth that was just an excuse. Without closure, he wasn't sure he could fully trust anyone else again.  
  
So, he had agreed to meet Tara. He had taken Cassandra’s advice and suggested a public spot for the rendezvous, his response letter short and businesslike. And now, he waited.  
  
Cullen knew she had entered the café without having to turn around; the whispering of the patrons gave her away.  
  
“Hello, Cullen.” His breath caught in his throat. That voice! It was like velvet, and he would likely never forget it as long as he lived.  
  
He pushed back his chair and stood to greet her, giving her the slightest of smiles and a nod. “Inquisitor.”  
  
They stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of each other for the first time in three years. Tara looked the same; painfully beautiful and a bit more plump; her role with the Inquisition since Corypheus was defeated and the mage/templar war had ended had become more diplomatic in nature. Her black hair was much longer and loose, almost down to her waist. Her outfit was new, or at least it was new to him; a scandalously low-cut burgundy brocade tunic that complemented her amber eyes, worn over skin-tight black leather pants that accented her curves.  
  
Looking at those eyes now, he was reminded of how they used to believe it was fate that they found each other, both having such a rare iris color.  He was also reminded of what her eyes looked like three years ago when it all came crashing down; red, puffy, full of angry tears. The dischord he felt from the good and bad memories caused him to draw on his strength.  
  
“You look amazing, even more handsome than I remember,” she purred, placing her hand on his jaw before he could react.  
  
His eyes fluttered shut at her touch; Maker, it was like pure electricity. Even after what she had done, he had to fight his will to turn his head and kiss her palm, to inhale the scent of her skin, the same scent that had been on the parchment, to invite her to touch him elsewhere. He hadn't realized how much he missed the feel of a woman's touch, and something told him she was well aware of this.  
  
“And you look well.” His tone was professional as he turned away from her caress. “Shall we sit?”  
  
He poured wine into her glass, noticing her eyebrows rise up out of the corner of his eye as she sat down.  
  
“Ah, thank you, just what the healer ordered,” she picked up the glass and raised it, looking him in the eye with a grand smile. She was wearing heavy makeup, her full lips glistening red, lips he had bitten countless times. “How about a toast?”  
  
Cullen regarded her coolly. He didn’t want to be cruel, but something wasn’t sitting right with him.  
  
“And what, pray tell, would we be toasting, Inquisitor?” he said flatly.  
  
Her smile faltered. She took a swig of wine, setting the glass down a bit too hard on the table and crossing her arms and legs. Suddenly the reason for her visit was becoming clear; the letter out of the blue, the seductive outfit, her obvious frustration that he wasn’t overjoyed to see her…he had a pretty good guess what was really going on, and it made him furious. How could have been so foolish? He felt irrationally angry at Cassandra for encouraging him.  
  
“Let’s change the subject,” she breathed, leaning forward onto the table and pushing her breasts together with her arms. His eyes flicked down and he was sure he saw a nipple - one of the many parts of her body that he had tasted.  
  
“Tell me, how does it feel to be the Right Hand of the Divine? It suits you, I think; especially that lovely new armor. Although, I must say, I do miss the fur paul—”  
  
“Forgive me,” Cullen snapped, “But as you can no doubt imagine, as the Right Hand I am incredibly busy. Why are you here, Inquisitor?”  
  
She sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Oh Cullen, will you please stop calling me that? I came all this way to see you. I come in peace, all right?”  
  
“Oh, is that so? Do you normally attend peacekeeping missions wearing shirts that threaten to release your breasts if you make any sudden moves? Or is that just for my benefit?” He hadn't intended to lose his cool, but the entire situation was becoming too much for him to bear.  
  
Tara glared at him. “What has gotten into you? I thought you’d be happy to see me after all this time, but clearly I was wrong!”  
  
Cullen threw his head back and laughed bitterly. “Are you joking?" He planted his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Let me see if I've got this right; you shatter my heart into a million pieces, and after I finally move on with my life, you show up again out of the blue. Not to apologize, or to make peace, as you so eloquently put it.” He shook his head at her. "He would have never let you meet with me alone. No, you’re here because he left you, didn’t he?”  
  
“Hey," she snarled, losing her composure, "in case you’ve forgotten, you broke it off with me! Or has your new holy position gone to your head?”  
  
Cullen’s eyes widened; the gall of this woman never ceased to amaze him. “In case _you’ve_ forgotten, I left you because you were lying to my face! Lying about _him_.”  
  
People were starting to stare at them. She looked around and lowered her voice. “I didn’t lie to you, it was more of a half-truth. Half-truths aren’t _lies_ , you know. You knew we were friends, and nothing physical had happened between us.” She paused. “Not yet, anyway.”  
  
Cullen rubbed his face. His anger was fading; he was so very tired. “Tara, I found his letters, one doesn’t write those things if they have an unrequited crush. Even if you didn’t do anything physical, I saw the way you looked at him, I felt it. We hadn’t been intimate, you were so distant…and then you came back, you made me _believe_ , and the whole time you two were…” he sighed. “I can’t do this again, I just can’t. I – I need you to leave.”  
  
Her hands scrambled across the table and grasped his hand; she was frantic. “Cullen, please, can we just start over? Maybe we can be friends again? I’m sorry, I know I screwed up, and I handled it terribly, but the heart just wants what it wants. I guess, I don't know, I was bored, and you _worshipped_ me, Cullen, I didn't know how to deal with that. I thought I wanted..."

She exhaled. "It doesn't matter. You may not believe me, but I am truly sorry that I hurt you. I never meant to. I was inexperienced with love, I – I didn’t know what I was doing. But I’m older now, I’ve changed! You must believe me!”  
  
He looked into her eyes, really looked at her, but he only saw desperation and self-preservation. Oddly, he believed her when she said she didn't intentionally hurt him, he never truly thought that to begin with, but that hardly mattered when the result was the same. He knew in that moment that the woman he had fallen in love with when they were just a scrappy organization in Haven was no longer there. Or perhaps she was still in there somewhere, but he couldn’t see her anymore, and he had lost the will to search. He wasn’t sure how or why she had gotten lost, but he did know one thing; it was no longer his concern.  
  
“Please,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks, “I’m all alone. I miss you, I miss my best friend. We had such a good thing once. Remember? Remember how much we laughed, how we used to talk until the sun came up, how we'd have sex for hours- Maker, the things we did to each other! Or when we'd read Varric's stories to each other? I didn't know what I truly had back then, but I do now. I know we can start again, if you'll let me back into your life.”  
  
Cullen's chest constricted thinking of those times he had mourned so often. He tried not to wrack his brain for the millionth time trying to figure out how it all went wrong, or if he had played a role in the deterioration of their relationship. He instead took a deep breath and rested his other hand on top of hers. “Despite what happened, I want you to know that, when we were happy, those were the best days of my life. For that, I will always be grateful to you.”  
  
She nodded through her tears. “They were for me, too.”  
  
“Then we’ll always have those memories. It’s more than many can say. But now, I must bid you farewell, Inquisitor. I truly wish you well. I hope you find happiness again.” He squeezed her hand and released it. He was afraid if he stayed any longer he would lose the resolve he had worked so hard to build. He rose from the table, unable to look her in the eye.  
  
He started to walk away when she called out to him. “Wait!”  
  
He stopped, reluctantly, and turned around.  
  
“So, that’s it? It's truly over between us, for good? Will I ever see you again?” She was wiping tears from her eyes, smearing her makeup.  
  
He chose his words carefully, and spoke kindly. “Our paths will cross again, I'm sure, due to our stations. But, I beg of you, if you truly care for me, Tara, you will not seek me out.”  
  
He hardened his heart to the sound of her quiet sobs as he left her sitting alone at the corner table in the cafe. Despite everything, he felt a little bit lighter with every step he took.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for more installments!


End file.
